


Prelude to Illness

by 1545011



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Cheating, Cologne, Common Cold, Cutesy, Exhibitionism, Fetish, Hurt/Comfort, John Lennon - Freeform, LennStarr, M/M, Nose Fetish, Nose Sex, Nose penetration, Perversion, Ringo Starr - Freeform, Rough Kissing, Sickfic, Sort Of, nasal penetration, nose sucking, public, runny nose, sick, sneeze fetish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:48:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27906982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1545011/pseuds/1545011
Summary: Certain adventures of the nasal variety.
Relationships: John Lennon/Ringo Starr
Comments: 22
Kudos: 17





	1. The Cologne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringo decides to offer John with some help through his cold.

It was with a husky sigh that the man sat himself down heavily onto a bench, he had exhausted himself with the endless ‘entertainment’ that the local mall had provided. His voice had been deeper and raspier than usual as he sighed to himself, John Lennon was coming down with a cold.

Feeling rather down on this day, and had offered to himself a materialistic getaway in order to cheer himself up. Upon pulling on his coat to leave, his three best friends invited themselves to tag along. 

The Beatles had simply walked around the bustling shopping center like it was a track. Shops on both sides, but too full of people to squeeze through, and too many people walking behind them to stop comfortably.

That was until George had spotted something that piqued his interest a little ahead, he had exclaimed and bounced on his toes as he turned back to the three men he would soon leave behind if he lets his zeal get ahead of him. 

“Let’s go! Come on?” He begged, gesturing at the store ahead of them which was obscured by the crowds of people hurrying past.

John was never one to be ashamed of souring up those around him. He tossed his head back and groaned openly, complete with a roll of his eyes. “I just need a fuckin’ rest! I’ve been walking for hours!” His hoarse voice exaggerated all of his complaints.

George’s face turned sad, seeing his plans were dashed as John was already looking for a place to rest. He didn’t exactly desire to sit idly by while the older male takes his sweet time fulfilling all the lazing actions he needed in a day. Paul had stepped up, being taken aback by John’s bluntness. But with his unwavering courtesy, he had offered to take George into the shop so that they wouldn't get too split up in the crowds. 

“Gonna leave me all on my lonesome, eh?” John huffed, his cheeks puffing outwards as he did so. The man was so silly, he could scarcely go a few interactions with anybody without throwing some of his humor into the mix. He crossed his arms, trying to look down his nose at Paul, but found that to be impossible since the younger male was taller. 

“Don’t say that like Ringo ain’t here.” Paul snorted with restrained laughter as he took George’s hand, and gestured to their good drummer with a jerk of his head. The singer’s demeanor had quickly overtook his friend’s composure.

“Hello, John.” Ringo beamed at his much taller friend, preparing to keep him company as he struggled to return to his sedentary habits. His drooping eyes folded closed as he grinned toothily at him, accentuating the very pinchable and soft apples of his cheeks. How could anyone say no to that face?

It was here that we return to the bench Lennon was sitting at. Following his lead, Ringo even imitated John’s annoyed sigh in an exaggerated manner as he sat down and adopted the same posture - Arms folded tightly over his chest, and legs spread in such a way which eliminated any space for another person to fit in between him and John. He made himself comfortable, and Ringo’s knee had pointedly nudged John’s as he took up the amount of space that he did.

The taller man’s shoulders jiggled as he chuckled at Ringo’s imitation game.

“Ringo.” John said with a sniff, his cold beginning to bother him more intensely than it did earlier. 

“What is it?” He answered, peeking over to him with a turn of his head.

“I’m bored.” Lennon replied without looking over to Ringo. 

“John, I thought you said you just wanted to rest.” He argued with him, though his voice had remained calm. 

“Well, now I’m bored.” John assured the shorter man, looking at the small kiosks dotting the center of the walkway in front of the bench. His voice seemed especially nasal as he spoke to his friend, he crinkled his drooping nose up as he completed his statement, a clogged feeling coming over him now.

Something had caught Lennon’s eye, and so he got up from the bench after only what must have been a full minute of sitting with Ringo.

It probably wouldn’t have been appropriate to say that something had caught John’s eye, because he was so incredibly near sighted. As they had been walking together through the crowd, the signs for the store had been mere smudges of color to John - The shapes of the letters being hopelessly indecipherable to him even as he passed with a few feet of the signs.

As he approached the kiosk, he swung his leg back to kick the stand and catch the attention of the clerk. 

“What’re you sellin’ here?” He asked unceremoniously, his eyes wandering over the counter. 

“Cologne, sir.” The clerk responded politely to him, despite John’s rude but not unusual greeting.

“Alright. Let’s get a sample, then.” He smiled weakly, he felt his nose begin to run as he spoke to the clerk. He noisily snorted a drop of watery mucous back into his nose.

The clerk looked to him with intrigue. His eyes lingered on John, who had quickly adopted a smug little grin as he began to lean heavily on the counter before him.

After letting out a nervous cough, the cologne clerk turned around to fetch the paper sample sheets. They made small scraping sounds against one another as the man pulled them from their dispensers. Though, above this noise he could hear John Lennon sniffling nearly every other second.

Images of the sample sheets being returned to him with streaks of clear snot from John’s nose had appeared in his mind. It was tough to withhold the resulting shudder, but he had a neat stack of fragrant sample paper for his entitled customer to deliver. The clerk expressed his gratitude in silence for the fact that these sample sheets of fragrance were designed to be single use. 

He laid them out onto the kiosk’s counter, like he would for any other customer.

John didn’t straighten his posture. Instead, the man remained leaning against the kiosk as he reached to grab a sample. 

As Lennon was bringing it to his face, the man could feel more fluid draining from his nostrils. He sniffed once, but soon realized it was too runny to recall it back inside. So he was forced to ball up the fresh sample the clerk had prepared for him, the paper crinkling noisily as John brought it under the pointy, hooked tip of his nose.

John blew his messy nose, scrunching his face up to do so forcefully. The lines of his nostrils became very prominent as his face changed, stretching back over the lower curves of his cheeks and outlining his slim  
mouth which had then turned into a delicate grimacing expression.  
Because the consistency of his mucous at this given moment was like water, the fluid had peppered the kiosk counter. The sample paper was shiny and unwilling to absorb the watery mucous by any means. Any of John’s mucous that had been blown onto the paper would quickly drip off of it, back onto the kiosk counter. 

This messy display was all that the clerk could focus on, he could not believe any single person could behave so rudely. But, there was not a single thing that could be done about it. Nor was there a single thing that he would change about it.

The clerk’s eyes were removed from the clear drops of snot, the very same he would have to wipe up, when John had then begun to sniffle as a moment of relief came over him. 

John’s eyes were relaxed, his face twitching as he recovered from such a satisfying action. He sighed with delight, taking in a deep breath from his nose alone to really appreciate the clarity. The man knew soon enough that his cold would overtake it once again, and in the coming days perhaps clog him up even worse. 

A dull crinkling sound could be heard as the ruined sample dropped to the counter, Lennon simply let it rest openly and without concern to toss it out.

“I might need another copy of that one.” He simply pointed to the wet bundle of paper he had personally dirtied, the sample of fragrance being completely unused.

Narrowing his eyes, the clerk went to prepare another. He didn’t know what to think of it.

As he did so, more loud sniffs could be heard coming from him. Several of them repeated with a faster frequency, as he held one of the sheets under his own nostrils.

“Damn it.” He muttered under his breath.

The cologne kiosk clerk didn’t have any desire to ask what the matter was, he simply wished to hear John’s deep sniffs of air drawn into that hooked beauty of a nose that the man had. Alas, he didn’t have time to do so.

“Ringoooo!”

Before he knew it, John had turned over his shoulder and called his friend over. His voice was straining and hoarse, this made Ringo approach the two at the kiosk with a little bit of urgency in his step.

“What is it, John?” He looked at the sick man leaning against the counter.

“I can’t smell nothing. Will you pick one of these out for me?” Lennon whimpered to him, his voice was especially nasal and stuffy. The torturous runny nose was indeed returning. 

“Sure I can.” Ringo beamed, taking the slips of fragrant paper from him.

Ringo then sniffed each strip of paper deeply, the rasping air that was drawn into his nostril being very audible to both men beside him. Between each sniff, a very little gasp or perhaps a hum was exclaimed by Ringo.  
“That one’s good.” He passed the first paper back to the cologne clerk.

“What do you mean just ‘good’?” John hummed.

“I meant ‘That one’s good’. That’s what I meant by that.”

“You can’t just say ‘good’. You have to tell me what it smells like.” John’s words were distorted by his stuffy nose. 

Ringo growled in annoyance, he had raised and lowered the second cologne sample to his face several times but was interrupted by John every time he did so.  
“It smells… Citrusy. Clean.” Ringo clarified to Lennon, who simply nodded and hummed as his friend continued the favor. “It might smell a little bit like grass, now that I think about it.”

The lines of his nostrils deepened each time he had sampled the fragrance, they flared enticingly and spread to a width that John could only imagine on the scale of his own. They must have dwarfed his own, surely the broad side of Ringo’s nose could eclipse John’s in nearly every aspect. 

Ringo scrunched his face up, his soft and plump upper lip raising to meet the full septum of his nose. The powerful aroma of the second cologne forced him to snort loudly, he wasn’t expecting it to bother him.

“What’s wrong with that one?” John narrowed his gaze at his shorter friend, whose eyes were watering. 

He felt a trickle of mucous drain once again down from his nose. The drop was running right along the channel of his Cupid’s bow. Without a second thought, Lennon had snorted the copious fluid back into his flared nostrils. By now, both of them were reddened from the constant, dripping irritation.

“Strong.” Ringo shook his head, and flipped the sample paper face down onto the kiosk counter. It was the same fragrance that John had blown his nose into earlier.  
“I think you should go with the first one, Lenny.” His eyes shone as he looked to the taller man, they were clear and showed no fatigue. The same could not be said of John, who had yet to face the true wrath of the cold he had caught.

How could he say no to that face?

“Alright then.” He nodded, and fished around in his pocket in search of his wallet. Pulling out the cash needed for a full size of the first sample he was given.

After the two Beatles had left, the cologne clerk had stolen the dirty sample John had used earlier. He slipped it into his jacket pocket after looking around to ensure nobody was watching.

‘What a close call. I would have lost it.’ The clerk thought to himself as he wiped up Lennon’s watery snot from his counter.  
‘If he had gotten a whiff of that strong one…’ The clerk continued inwardly.

Once Ringo had come over, he was in bliss. His short friend’s huge nostrils were able to produce deep sniffs that blew his mind. It was a dream come true to be surrounded by two such beautiful noses. 

However, where Ringo has been exceptionally loud… John was very messy, even leaving behind drops of his liquid snot for the clerk’s responsibility.

When the second sample had been too much for Ringo, he merely snorted and recovered. Therefore the intense fragrance probably would have brought Lennon into an intense bout of sniffles.  
The clerk imagined him gasping for air, with his own fluids flowing out of his burning red nostrils and elsewhere down his face. The thought alone has forced him to shut his eyes and wish that thought away for now. 

John purchased the cologne Ringo had selected for him, and was met with affection from his shorter friend the entire way home.

George and Paul had rejoined them not long after, and were forced to listen to Ringo’s account of how he had helped John once he had shown signs of his sickness inhibiting him.

“Ringo, that’s fantastic!” Paul beamed once the drummer had completed his tale. 

“Yeah it is!” Ringo bobbed his head playfully, prying the bottle of cologne from John’s weak and clammy hand as he celebrated in the seat next to him.

George was the first to laugh, it was hearty and perhaps more of a guffaw than anything. Paul bursted into laughter soon after, but John did not follow suit.

“Are you going to actually help me once we get back, or are you just going to take all the glory, then?” He snapped, sinking weakly into his seat.  
The deep fatigue of his illness was gripping him now, he wanted nothing more than to collapse into a wheezing, sniffling pile and sleep until he was healthy again.

“You know Ringo, that ain’t such a bad idea.” George turned back in his seat to face Ringo and John who were sitting in the back of the car.

“That’s right. You seem to have a knack for it.” Paul’s eyes changed in the rearview mirror for just a moment to get a look at the two of them together. He was able to make brief eye contact with Ringo, before wisely turning his attention back to the road.

The drummer’s deep cornflower gaze had been wide, and full. The thought of him having responsibilities taking care of John had stirred something inside himself. Surely, he would have to think about what that meant later on.

Lennon’s reaction was a complete, teasing uproar. He clapped his sweaty hand over Ringo’s as he held the cologne from earlier.

“That’s right! My own personal nurse!”


	2. The Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringo goes to extra mile in showing sympathy for John's illness.

The last three days had been such a pleasant journey to Ringo. He could remember his agenda throughout them vividly, there was so much to do for John as he nursed him through his cold. 

On the first day, he had mostly remained by John’s side and fetched things for him. The sick guitarist had no reservations about giving Ringo any work to do for him. 

His stuffy nose had remained about the same, with intervals of near constant drainage from John’s irritated nostrils packed between hours of minor discomfort. 

The man wasn’t too concerned about cleaning up after himself, however. The bin at his bedside was half full of used tissues, but most of his watery fluids had been drawn back up into his sensitive nose with a powerful sniffle.

But by the second day, his cold had really started to render Lennon very weak. It was harder to breathe now, and so John was left with his mouth partially open through most of the day. 

Ringo wouldn’t have said the best part was receiving praise from George and Paul, but it certainly was a perk that never failed to elicit a smile from the drummer.

The two younger men had commented on how cute it was to watch Ringo in the kitchen as he struggled to open up a can of soup. But, he was determined to make a warm meal for John to enjoy and perhaps alleviate some of his symptoms. Soon enough he was able to open it and had prepared a bowl for Lennon, only to find that he was fast asleep as the fatigue overtook him.

By the evening, Ringo had noticed he hadn’t had time to give Mo a call. He sighed and decided to do so, and let his girl know that he would likely be distracted the next few days as he cared after his sick bandmate.

“Take all the time you need, Ritchie.” She spoke softly to him over the phone. There was only one concern that she had with the situation. “Just make sure you don’t get sick yourself, now.” 

Yesterday was the third day of Ringo nursing John through his cold, and he had continued to decline.  
Ringo had better luck opening another can of soup for John at lunchtime, and was met with George bearing a gift for him as he held the hot bowl with two potholders. 

“Here you go, Ringo.” He grinned, and placed a folded paper hat onto the drummer’s head. As he spoke, he was sure to emphasize the rhyme. 

“What is it?” He foolishly thought about peeking up to look at it, but was reminded he was still holding a hot bowl. 

“You just seemed out of uniform, is all.” George smiled, and left Ringo to continue on with his duties.

It was a nurse hat folded from a sheet of newspaper. Across the front was a red cross that George had scribbled on with a chunky red marker. 

Ringo got a good laugh out of it as he set it on John’s cluttered nightstand, after handing off his hot lunch to the sick Lennon.

John held the hot bowl on his lap, it was pleasantly warm and he hummed with delight seeing that his friend had returned. With only shallow, rasping breaths for air, John’s chest was heaving as he sat up in bed. 

He had tried to eat it as he did so yesterday, with Ringo blowing on each spoonful and John leaning against the headboard, but that seemed like a bad idea. 

It was ceaseless, his runny nose was taking over. Tiny, nasal gasps escaping him after every wipe of his nose. Which had long since turned pink at the hooked tip from all of the attention John was giving it.  
There no longer was a balance between the dry, and leaking intervals.  
A larger volume of clear mucous was basically flowing from his nose, and to his discomfort, flowing into the open mouth he had needed to breathe from.

John spat and wiped at his lips with the last tissue in the box on his nightstand. He groaned with disbelief, but had learned his lesson.

“Do they really...“ He interrupted himself with a wet sniffle.  
“...expect me to…” Lennon made a second, louder sniffle as he attempted to return the running snot back into his nostril. It was unsuccessful and he was left with a drop running along the channel of his laugh line which had formed as he snorted.  
“...be sniveling all day?” He nearly cried, wiping at his face in disgust, hopeless to stop the flow.

He squeezed his eyes shut and helplessly groaned.

John rested for a moment but soon opened his eyes once again to look up at Ringo, who was sitting at the singer’s bedside.

His eyes were soft and soulful as he looked with sympathy at his younger friend lying helplessly on his bed. Ringo’s drooping eyes were only enhancing the careful impression when John’s eyes had opened to meet the drummer’s gaze.

“First off, who is ‘they’?” He joked, and grabbed a new box of tissues for Lennon.

As Ringo wiped the transparent snot from his friend’s face, there was no response that the sick man could think of. He giggled upon remembering his phrasing from earlier.

Ringo took the bowl of soup from John and allowed him to lie on his back under the blankets. 

The drummer was swift in establishing new accommodations for John. He placed an extra pillow behind his head, and told him simply not to worry about his runny nose for the time being. 

As embarrassing as it was, John was forced to agree even as he had felt coated in his own fluids. 

Likely, he was! Because after being spoon fed so much warm broth, the price for his relief was only an increase in the volume of his drainage. That which was wiped up dotingly by Ringo with a few dabs of a moist cloth.

That incident would have to stay between just the two of them, surely.

Later on, Ringo gave Mo a call.

“Oh, that sounds terrible! Tell him I said ‘Get well soon”, will you?” She offered condolences to her husband’s pal on the other end of the line.

“Don’t worry, I will. It’s so hard seeing him so sick.” Ringo hummed in response, his finger toying with the coiled cord of the phone.

“Ritchie, you go so far to help all your friends out.” She sighed happily, thankful to be with such a thoughtful soul like Ringo Starr.  
“Just don’t go too far, and catch that dreadful cold.”

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Ringo assured his wife with absolute confidence.

On the fourth day, not much had changed. Lennon had been reduced to wheezing and sniffling loudly, but still making a mess of his face.

“How are you feeling?” Ringo asked him softly as he lied on his back.

“Miserable!” John scoffed, angry at what felt like such an ill-timed rhetorical question.

Ringo frowned, but remained silent for a second until an idea had popped into his head.

“Oh, I remember now! You never tried your cologne from the mall. That’ll cheer you up, won’t it?” He exclaimed and went to find it.

John perked up. He felt like that might just be a good idea considering he had been too weak to shower alone, and too nervous to ask Ringo to wash him. So, he knew he definitely needed a refresher.

He agreed, and let Ringo spritz the fragrance on him.

Lennon couldn’t smell it at all and was fairly disappointed. However, that was to soon fade as Ringo had sank his face deep into the collar of his shirt.

He could feel the shape of his friend’s nose pressing firmly into him, the cartilage was bending only slightly as Ringo nuzzled him. Lennon was enticed from the sensation, but there also was the deep sniffs to be heard as his friend seemingly couldn’t get enough of the smell.

Ringo was pulling John by his collar closer to his face, he was really getting so invested in the smell of the cologne. It smelled so nice at the mall, but it was truly driving him wild mixed with the scent of his friend, too.

After each sniff, Ringo let out a gasp. He freely let compliments slip out of him as he indulged himself in John’s new cologne. The exact phrasing was escaping the singer, who couldn’t pay attention to his words more than his actions.

Ringo’s plump lips pursed, he clambered over on top of John and straddled his waist. His eyes remained closed, the drummer's hands continued to clutch onto Lennon’s shirt and he began to drag his nose over his friend’s neck. 

As it moved up and down John’s thick neck, it flattened as much as it could between the two men’s faces -Still there was a large and triangular margin of negative space between them. 

The lines connecting his wide nostrils to the drummer’s face were exaggerated with each stroke of his nose passing over John’s skin.

Pulling away slightly to catch his breath, Ringo didn’t let his eyes open. He didn’t know what he was doing, but it felt good to run his nose over the sickly warm skin of his younger friend.

It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, and John wasn’t trying to push him away.

He took in a deep breath through his nose and then moved in to get at John once more. As he did this, his nostrils flared and the younger male got an excellent view inside of them.

But, it was only for an instant. He let the tiniest moan pass his lips as he saw it. The sight had ignited something in him, it had given a very pleasant visual to the lovely sniffs he was hearing and feeling as they sucked his skin against Ringo’s receptive and soft holes.  
Two gaping passages, side by side. They had engorged and John was able to glimpse the clear and vivid pink skin of his interior.

The curiosity of how deep they went was plaguing him, he was unable to comprehend his desire to explore them. There was something about how the shadows of his nostrils had obscured so much the deeper he went, it forced him lick his lips. An intangible whim to see how far they went into Ringo was circling around in his mind.

John’s brow furrowed, his composure was breaking. In his pants, his cock was hardening at an alarming pace.

He leaned into kiss Ringo. His own nose had met Ringo’s face before the rest of him had been able to do so and it forced a strained moan from Lennon. It was a complete surprise. The eroticism wasn’t latent, but it took the desires fresh in his mind and ran with them.

Leaning his head forward to make his lips connect with the drummer had only driven the hooked tip of his nose deeper against Ringo’s cheek. A second moan was let out from his lustful throat, and he blinked slowly as John realized he would have to angle his head to kiss the skin of his careful friend with more than just the tip of his nose.

Lennon did so, the broad hooked profile of his nose slid aside and he was able to plant his lips on Ringo’s shining wet mouth. The older male’s lips were so pliable, he shuddered at the soft feeling of them over his own. As they squished against his mouth, they covered Lennon’s own lips entirely. 

But most distinctly was Ringo’s own thick upper lip getting shoved against the full bony protrusion of his septum, as John made the decision to kiss his friend deeper. His tongue was sliding into Ringo’s mouth, forcing his jaw further open.  
John’s eyes shut tightly and his throat undulated as he began a stream of aroused moans, which vibrated through them both as Ringo had begun to reciprocate.

It was natural for the shorter male to do so, his hands clawed at John as he soon felt overwhelmed. His friend’s nose had dug into his cheek rather painfully, the stiff cartilage and bony bridge had outlined the impression of Lennon’s profile very clearly into his skin even as he ceased.

Ringo had whimpered in reply, his juicy wet lips puckering up for John as he realized his friend was giving him a kiss. But a choked and erotic moan was forced from him when John’s tongue had made it clear that he wanted more from the drummer.

They continued like this for some time, passionately making out with each other until the burning desire they had both felt was revealed to have a different source.

This revelation was likely just in time, as Lennon had needed to take a huge breath from the ordeal. The man was unable to breathe through his clogged nose and was stifling his desire for air in favor of exploring Ringo.

He gasped, the fluid which was streaming from the sore nostrils quickly getting plastered and spread over his cheeks as he tried to wipe himself clean. 

Ringo opened his eyes, and caught a glimpse of his friend’s wet nose as it leaked another drop of watery mucous. Without a second thought, John’s tongue had peeked out from between his sickly lips and had lapped up the droplet from the channel of his Cupid’s bow. 

A hot shame fell over Ringo, he had forgotten all about John’s illness! He was sure to come down with it now, even after he promised Mo over the phone twice already.

He pulled away from John in shock, and gave himself a smack to the side of his head. The force delivered had sent his feathery brown hair into a flurry. 

“Lenny! Y-You kissed me! Oh, why would you do that? I’m gonna get sick!” He explained, his hands shaking as he realized there was likely nothing that could be done.

“You liked it! You liked my germs going into you?” John murmured, and lapped up some of the mucous streaming from his inflamed nostrils.  
“You’re gonna get sick like me.”

The adrenaline was coursing in Lennon now, and his hands went to pull Ringo back. Being much taller than the drummer, he had an easy time in securing the squirming male close to his body once more.

“What’re you doing now?” He whined fearfully.

“D-Dont you dare kiss me again!” Ringo growled after a brief silence from John, who had only glared at him with desire.

“That’s alright. I won’t, then.” He hummed, his reply rasping and nasal from the manner in which his cold was ravaging him.

Craning his neck upwards, John traced the tip of his nose along Ringo’s jawline. He moved quickly to tug the other male’s frame closer to him as soon as he saw the opportunity to do so. 

The drummer didn’t struggle, but remained in a stupor as Lennon was manipulating his body around on top of him.

Embarrassingly, he had already been hard long before this point. Ringo’s cock began erecting once he felt the heat from the guitarist's body upon him after smelling the fragrance on his neck.

Lennon’s incredible hooked nose tip began rubbing against Ringo’s full septum which bulged so impressively from under the tip of his own nose.

A squeaky whine was elicited from Ringo, the sensation was making him feel some sort of way. As the other male’s nose traced up and over his own, Ringo’s eyes fluttered. It was obvious, there was some kind of pleasure he was getting from the touch. 

John held a suspicion once Ringo had begun to trail his own nose over the singer’s fragrant shirt collar, but this was confirming it. Seeing as he had held near identical desires, Lennon saw no issue with continuing as he saw fit.

Perhaps that was selfish of him, for when John had kissed the tip of Ringo’s nose, the older male was pulling away and grunting wordlessly in protest.

Lennon growled and narrowed his eyes as he pursued the drummer, whose wrists had slipped out of his grasp as he got up from John’s bed. He rose and snatched at him with a sweaty hand only to miss him by an inch.

He was sure to secure him on the second try. He was still strong from the rush of adrenaline earlier and was able to hold Ringo still in a tight embrace.  
John clutched Ringo to his chest, he was looming over the shorter man as he stood nose to nose with him.

“No! Lenny, you know I’m with Mo.” Ringo pleaded with him, turning his face away so that he would have a harder time getting at his sensitive nose.  
It used to be his secret erogenous zone, but John knew of that now.  
He could do whatever he wanted with that information and it terrified Ringo.

He loved his wife, but he had never told her about how his nose was so sensitive. So after so long with his desires being left empty, Ringo was caught in this tumultuous hesitation as he straddled John’s waist and let the kiss happen.

Nonetheless, he broke it up after enough was enough for him. He couldn’t hurt Maureen that way. It was tough to swallow his arousal and resist his friend, but Ringo was going to stand his ground.

John didn’t care about any circumstances like that in this situation. He wanted Ringo. He wanted to pleasure that nose of his, and fulfilling his desires was all that mattered. There was still that ache in him, the very thought of it was forcing his cock to leak as it hardened in his pants.  
Even if he was thinking of his own wife, he couldn’t have been bothered to stop at this point. 

He let out a sickly gasp and responded to Ringo by staring deep into his eyes. It was the same glare from earlier.

Then his mouth and opened with a sickly gasp and John had begun to drag his tongue up the bridge of Ringo’s nose. 

The shorter man shuddered and clutched into Lennon’s clothes as he did this. It was a losing battle.

The sight of John’s mouth so wet as it came down to meet his nose was so tantalizing. When Ringo shut his eyes, it was all he could visualize. 

Currently, the hot breath and the pleasurable swipes of John’s tongue traveling slowly up and down the bridge were forcing the drummer to purr with delight.  
“Oooh… Yeah…” Ringo’s brow furrowed, his fingers tugged at John.

But before he knew it, John had tilted his own head back for something new.

Lips had wrapped around the tip of his nose, and they suckled on it fervently.

Ringo felt himself get weak at the knees. His entire body spasmed with pleasure. A terribly loud moan was pushed out from him, it surprised the two men.

He knew he was sensitive there, but he didn’t expect that he could cum from someone stimulating his nose all alone. He wasn’t quite there at this point, but there certainly was going to be that opportunity if John continued. 

Lennon’s cheeks hollowed out, he suckled on Ringo’s tip with a deep concentration. His thin lips were pursed over his nostrils as they wrapped around the cartilage. But underneath, his tongue was playing with the openings.

It squished against the skin of his septum, digging into it until he was met with bone. Nothing more to be done there, his tongue relaxed and flattened as it attempted to cover the two passages. The muscle was twitching with exertion, but it had managed to meet the width of Ringo’s nose. 

When John broke away, there was a wet pop to be heard and Ringo had let out a squeak as the pleasure stopped so suddenly.

“Does your wife know you like this, Ringo?” John murmured teasingly. 

Ringo squirmed in the arms which held him.

“I wonder what she’ll say?” He continued, his voice laden with illness. 

He hummed in arousal, and drove his erection against the drummer. Who whined and struggled with confusion as John began to torment him this way.

“How are you going to tell her that you got sick?” His thin lips curled into a smile. 

“Are you going to...“ John paused to snort up a drop of watery mucous flowing out of his nostril. He couldn’t quite retrieve it in time, and from the angle it was rendered as a single droplet hanging off the sculpted tip of Lennon’s nose, after running along his septum as he stood predatorial over Ringo.

“Are you going to admit you made out with your sick friend? Hm? The one you were supposed to be caring after?”

The drop fell from the hooked nose tip and landed with a splat onto Ringo’s cheek.

John couldn’t hold back once more, and he kissed the tip of the shorter man’s nose before opening his mouth with a tortured moan and sliding his tongue into his deep nostril.

It was time to remedy that ache he felt in him, which was turning him on and leaving him on… He didn’t know what to do with all the lust for the drummer’s long nose, so he vented the frustration by thrusting his tongue deep inside of Ringo.

Ringo was shaking, he collapsed against John and gasped endlessly from the sensation. The side of his nose was bulging from the depth that John’s tongue was plunging itself into his nostril - As if he was fucking it.

As he did this, John grinded his hips against the smaller male who was now limp in his grip. Shuddering breaths could be heard from the sick man as his tongue struggled to fit itself deeper into the tight passage.

Ringo pushed against John in fear. He was about to be sent over the edge. He cried, feeling his cock throbbing almost painfully in his pants. With a cry, he jerked his head back and forced Lennon’s tongue from out of his nostril. As it slid out of him, there was a wet ‘shlick’ accompanying it.

He knew he was close to orgasm now, that was evident to both of them. 

‘As long as I don’t cum… I don’t need to say anything happened.’ Ringo rationalized it in his head, his face burning scarlet as he looked up at his younger friend still hugging him tight to his feverish body.  
Tiny whimpers he couldn’t stifle were forced from his thick lips as he looked up shamefully again to John. It was a miracle how Ringo was able to resist rubbing his hard cock against his friend.

“I can’t believe you’re about to cum.” John smirked, finishing his sentence with a sickly sniff as he felt his nose dripping once more. 

“I think I know what Maureen would say…” He continued, and began to grope Ringo as he freed a hand from around the drummer’s waist. 

John’s hand travelled down the front of his friend’s torso, grasping at his penis through his clothes. 

He was impressed with Ringo’s endowment, seeing as it outmatched his own member in nearly every dimension. John licked his lips at this realization, but had decided to save that information for later.

“Ritchie, you like having your what fucked?” John mimicked her voice, and continued his taunting Ringo with the impression of his wife. “You like having your nose fucked?” He giggled mockingly.

Ringo was burning up, he thrashed against John but was stopped when the taller man went to penetrate him once more with his tongue.

It plunged to the base, John’s own mouth open wide with aroused desire. 

Deeper than before, the outline of John’s tongue as it squirmed deeper into Ringo’s nasal passage was crystal clear.

Ringo felt a little bit like he was being split open. 

He was cumming, his eyes rolled back in a flash of blue as his face was distorted from the man’s orgasm.  
He groaned deeply as he made a terrible mess of his pants, his sticky load shooting against the fabric.

But still John continued, his tongue squeezing in and out of the tight and cramped space of his nasal passage as he fucked Ringo’s nose.

Ringo was winding down after blowing his load, his eyes closing and chest heaving as he tried to recover from his orgasm. It was hard, with the squirming tongue still thrusting away inside of him.

It was such an incredible feeling for John as well, albeit perhaps painful. So deep inside of Ringo, the passage grew narrow as his tongue was passing through the bones of his face. It compressed his tongue which could only spasm in an attempt to wriggle deeper into the passage that John was so determined to have.

That was until Lennon’s tongue had thrust upwards at a lucky angle, and had pushed itself into the shorter male’s nasal cavity. His eyes shot open in surprise, before fluttering as he grew weak.

Ringo shrieked with a confused pleasure, he had never felt something like this before. The tight bony space between the cavity and the passage was absolutely full of Lennon’s tongue as it frantically twitched inside of him.  
He swore it could be felt under his eyeball, inside of his face. The feeling of penetration so incredibly deep in his face was maddening, it had opened up a new plane of sensation for Ringo Starr.

Likewise, John was experiencing it similarly. The man came in an instant without the need to touch himself. 

Hoarse moans came from John, who had scrunched his face up in an exhausted and lusty expression, and continued as his orgasm passed. Once the last of his seed had dribbled out from the tip of his cock, John began to slide his tongue out from Ringo’s nostril. 

The two men were weary and gasping, as they pulled apart from each other. 

Lennon’s eyes grew wide and he gasped suspensefully at the sight of Ringo’s ravaged hole after pulling away. Initially, he fantasized that fucking Ringo’s nose with his tongue would be gaping afterwards. However he saw that the nostril was simply red and sore from  
all the stretching, as it had easily returned to the original width once Ringo was done flaring it.  
The vivid pink passage was glistening with his own saliva, and John was sad to see it go. 

He thought for a second on how his illness must be working its way inside of Ringo now, traveling deeper into him than his tongue would ever hope to have been.

John felt like he didn’t care so much now if Ringo had told other people about how he spoon fed by him while runny snot dribbled down his cheeks, so long as this stayed between them.

Ringo couldn’t agree more, though he carried a guilt that John lacked in knowing that he had sex with his friend.  
The horrible taunts Lennon delivered to him didn’t help his case. The drummer’s stomach was in knots as he broke the news to his wife that night. 

“Hey, Ritchie!” Maureen greeted him in such a singsong tone as she answered her telephone. She blew a kiss into the receiver for her husband.

“Hi, Mo…” Ringo made an attempt to match her attitude that evening. His finger fumbled with the phone cord as a little nervous habit he had. The man was fully aware that he wore his heart on his sleeve and that his wife could read him in an instant.

“You don’t sound so good.” She commented, and Ringo swallowed anxiously. This was it.

“You got yourself sick, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, Mo… I did.”

Before Ringo could come clean with the whole truth, his wife has innocently continued.

“That’s okay, that just means that now I get to be your nurse.” The woman giggled, imagining the scenes her husband described to her the last 3 days but with Ringo sick and herself as the nurse.

Of course, the reality of what happened didn’t occur to her at all. 

‘What pervert immediately thinks of such a thing like nose sex, when their spouse goes to tell them that they caught a little bit of a cold?’ Ringo thought to himself sadly. He felt like John had begun to corrupt him from what they have done today.

Maureen had gushed happily about her little fantasy of nursing Ringo back to health, and Ringo could only feel the same crushing guilt forming into a plateau over his heart. 

The circumstances of their new situation alarmed him, as he understood that the wife he betrayed by letting Lennon kiss him, would be the one dealing with the repercussions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first time writing something like this. 
> 
> Please tell me what you thought.  
> I appreciate any feedback that I get.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Please let me know what you thought, what you would like to see next, or if you have any suggestions. 
> 
> <3


End file.
